


Choose Your Adventure: Purgatory

by JengaManga



Category: Personal Work - Fandom
Genre: 2nd Person, Blood and Guts, Choose Your Adventure, Comedy, Gore, Hell, Horror, Mature Theme, Meta Shit, Musical, Offensive, Offensive?, Pop Culture, Pop culture too I guess, Purgatory, Singing, cursing, narrated, narrator - Freeform, the Devil - Freeform, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 20:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12779049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JengaManga/pseuds/JengaManga
Summary: I had to write a choose your adventure story and this is the hot mess I came up with.My teacher said she really loved it and how it was funny yet really deep idek





	1. Main Story

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this here because why not I'm lazy  
> Go through the chapter index to go to the next part!

Why hello there, welcome to the interdimensional plane of nonexistent existence, or Purgatory as you mortals know! I know, pretty bland, but how did you expect the afterlife to look like? Anyways, you've been sent here due to your sins upon the surface world! Oh boy, what did you do? I've had lawyers, US presidents, network executives. What you have done? Not pay your taxes? Started a genocide that killed millions of innocent people (I've had plenty of those)? Made a horrible pun? 

You know what, that doesn't even matter. All that matters is that you proceed straight through Door B, and only Door B, straight on your way to Hell. That's not a figure of speech either, the devil is waiting for you. My, you must be some honored guest if the devil personal asked for you. 

Hell isn't such a bad place as you mortals make up to be, it's loads of fun! We have Stalin, Nixon, and even Betty White! Oh, she isn't dead yet? She will be soon, don't you worry. Isn't she like 90? The point is, it's not that bad, minus the unearthly fire and gut wrenching tortures. 

You could say that that is a make or break, but you're not allowed to bitch and complain in hell so just shut up and take it like a champ. Like Nelson Mandela! He isn't in hell, but boy that would be a shit load of fun hanging with that dude. All we have is Hitler and we can't listen to his little annoying, funny rants anymore. They stapled his mouth shut because it got more annoying than funny. 

Now we're just getting off track here, head through Door B into your perilous doom! C’mon it's not like you have much of a choice here. Oh that door, Door A? Yeah it's a load of shit, don't even go in there. Why do we still have that door, it doesn't even do anything…


	2. A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You little scoundrel

Are you actually _THAT_ fucking dense!? No, no. Everyone makes mistakes, it's alright. Probably just slipped and fell, right? 

You know, hell is more forgiving than heaven is. We torture you for all of eternity, you deserve a few fuck ups. At least 3. Until you're banned to the lake of suffering souls and screaming death for all eternity. Let me explain:

The first time, we cut a small opening into your stomach. Not too big. Then someone digs there fingers in there and grabs onto your intensities and pulls them right out! It's usually Gandhi who does this because he likes to run off with them to what you can only presume is to play with them. Gross, but that's Hell for you!   
Now back to the punishment. 

The second time, you're fingernails get shoved into this medieval contraption that basically rips them right out. However, it fucks up a lot and half of your nail breaks off about 20% of the time. Why specific? We analyze data. Heaven doesn't do that, they just send you to us. Anyways, you have to be the one to punch the button and do the deed. Cats usually hang around your feet, waiting for your bloody, fleshy, gooey nails to fall to the floor for them to swat around. Sometimes they eat then which is one disgusting hair ball, that you get the pleasure of cleaning up! 

The third time. Oh boy. Ever heard of the Gunpowder plot? Some dudes in the 1700s or whatever who kept barrels of gunpowder underneath the king's castle to kill them? Well, when all of them were caught in their unsuccessful attempt, they took the leader and placed him on a table, which will happen to you! Your hands and feet will be bound to wooden bars as you're stretched apart. This usually ends in your torso ripping apart and your insides spill everywhere. It makes a huge fucking mess and you kinda can't do anything after that, since you're split into two. It's honestly easier to go straight to the lake if you ask me. 

But this one is just a freebie, since you're new. 

Don't let it happen again. 

Now! Enough chatter, go through Door A2 to meet your maker! Or well, not maker but he owns you now anyways so he might as well be your maker…


	3. A1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delinquent

Just _What are you trying to accomplish here!?_  
You think you can actually escape!? Fool, there is no damn escape! You'll be here for the rest of your torture, miserable eternity! You just spent all your chances, now you shall face a wrath worse than Hell! 

-the room rumbles underneath your feet, cracks appearing in the floor. Tiles start to fall from the corners, revealing a blank red, glowing underside. It didn't look like lava, or fire. Just, an endless pit of red. A bloody red. 

A crash is heard behind you, and you whip your head around, causing whiplash. You stare at a ghastly creature’s enormous head burst through one of the black walls. His eyes blinked sideways, tongue forked, and horns that looked like it was covered in razor blades, it probably was. They looks like the Jersey Devil, just much more demonic. 

_“PREPARE FOR YOUR FATE”_ the voice booms. It was the narrator from before, but his voice was much more sinister and dark, laced with anger and power. 

More tiles start to fall around you, leaving you trapped on only a few jagged squares. In less than 2 minutes, the last piece had fallen and you fell with it. 

Your screams echoed through the abyss as the disintegrating black room became smaller and smaller. You could feel the wind whipping past your ears. Your clothes fluttered as you descended farther and farther you thought they would rip right off. The fall seemed never ending. 

Your body began to burn from the friction, and your voice was reduced to a croaky whimper as your vocal cords decomposed right in your own throat. You choked on the flesh and blood, but it was no use. You were in an endless loop of suffocation. 

Without warning, everything went black. No consciousness, no thought. Just emptiness. Your body had hit an invisible end, your body splattering onto the ground. 

Your blood and guts strewn about haphazardly between broken bones and punctured organs. Above your head appeared words you couldn't read, because you're fucking dead for real. 

**GAME OVER**


	4. A2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not much of a better ending

Ah, finally you've seen the error of your ways! I'm afraid that wasn't enough though, it seems the big boss is real mad. Just a heads up, he gets more smellier the angrier he gets. It's like cilantro and sulfur. 

/With that the voice was gone and you had come face to face, more like face to chest, with a large… goat man?   
His torso was that of a man, but his entire head was a goat’s, horns and creepy pupils and all that nonsense. 

His legs were curved like a horse’s, or the hind legs of any four-legged animal, and was covered with fur. Spikes bursted through the hind knee like a claw, and it’s (he?) hooves adorned hot metal horse shoes. They glowed a bright red that hissed when the presumed ‘Devil’ walked. 

“You there!” The devil sneered. “You shall NOT keep the Almighty Lord of Hell waiting!” 

“Yeah yeah all high and mighty,” the narrator from before mumbled under his breath in a hint tone of mocking. 

“You!” The devil pointed up at the ceiling, which was bare black. “What are you still doing here!? Shouldn't you be in purgatory collecting and welcome new souls?” 

“Well,” the narrator shrugged. You couldn't really see it, but you could just about hear the movements in his voice. The smug smirk, half lidded eyes, and that cocky voice that displayed it all.  
“Purgatory is kinda bare right now. Anyways, they're all warmed up for you! Oh? Betty White is finally here! Ugh, I'm gonna get my hands on some cookie and fudge recipes before they turn her lungs into stew,” the narrator rushed, waving an invisible hand goodbye and left without another word. 

The Devil just ran his clawed hand down his face, groaning. He shook himself out. 

“Now, where were we? Oh yes! You've tested my patience for far too long now! You were supposed to be an honored guest, but yo-” the devil was cut off in his bellowing, fiery rant by none other than the narrator. 

“False alarm, just just that carrot juicer man. What's up with old people and liquids? I mean, they piss all over themselves, spill juice all over your new damn carpets, and fucking juice everything! We have dentures in hell! What's the point anyways, they're the ones getting grilled. Oooooo, roasted elders is just the best! You’ll like it, it's a lot of fun,” the narrator interrupted, blabbing on and on about nonsense that was even making you annoyed. 

“Narrator?” The devil slyly smiled, his pitch raising a few octaves. 

“Yes my lord?” Narrator asked oblivious. 

The devil reached into the ceiling and pulled a skull out by the neck. It was the same demon from the first choice! So, this really is the narrator and not some depiction made to enhance the stories dark overtone? Neat. 

The devil shook his head around roughly making narrators bones shake. 

“Then fucking deal with the damn juicer! I don't give a flying damn! Now leave, and don't come back until you are called!!” The devil finished his point by ripping narrator’s skull off his neck and throwing it into the wall. It passed through without complication. 

Narrator gripped his neck for a second before rushing out to find his missing head, probably still rolling back to the entrance of purgatory. 

“That guy really gets on my nerves, ya’know?” He complained, stepping away. 

“He doesn't seem that bad, just… impulsive,” you try to console. How are you suppose to help the devil?

“That is true… it's just. I hear all these fascinating things about the people he's met; (some famous ppl that would be in hell). All I do is sit here waiting for the worst. They're always so boring and…” the devil, the actual devil, was at a loss for words. 

“Generic?” You substitute quietly, stepping closer to him with caution. 

“Yes, generic! No wonder he calls me a true stick in the mud,” he sighed, crossing his arms.   
“I remember back before I was crowned into Hell, we use to,” the devil cut himself off with a chuckle. “We use to take the wings from the gargoyles and throw them into the pit,” he smiled. The devil can actually smile, holy shit. 

“Do you miss him?” You probed. It probably wasn't a good idea, but it beats suffering and misery. 

“I suppose you could say that,” he trailed off. He looked down at the small human who looked back. 

“Tell me something,” he started, swallowing to try to find the right words.   
“Have you ever… cared for someone more than you should?” He asked, looking away. 

“No… I've never really developed any feelings towards anyone, not even my own parents,” you explained. It was the whole truth, but for some reason it didn't feel as so. The devil bit his tongue. 

“Oh…” he trailed off, huffing. 

Wait, it was starting to make sense. His behavior, the attitude, the way he looked up into the empty ceiling. 

“You like narrator,” you whispered before chanting it louder. 

“What?! You truest are insane,” he growled, holding a hand as to block his words. 

“Yes you do! I can see it in your eyes! You get all goo-goo eyed. You think you hide it, but I can see it! I may not be able to feel emotions, but I'm a damn good mind reader!” You boasted, jumping onto his hand to look right at him. Damn, you little psycho path you're annoying. No wonder you were so skilled in stalking your victims and how easy it was for you to get away with their cruel, untimely death.

“Nonsense,” the devil rolled his eyes and flung you across the room. You skidded and hit an invisible wall, but you got back up and ran back to the devil. You jumped around his feet like an annoying little brat, the devil felt as if he was talking to a damn child. He technically was; you're 25 while he's about 40,000 years old.

“C’mon, you should tell him! I can help you!” You smiled, hands clasped. 

“Really?” The devil looked down at you, eyebrow raised in disbelief. 

“Yeah!” You cheered, bouncing up and down a bit. Maybe you did know one emotion: obnoxious. 

“You know, you're totally right! I shouldn't just hide my feelings like you, kid. And who knows, maybe he’ll like me back! You've really helped me, kid, I think I can do this,” he boasted, voice booming in superiority. 

“Really!?” You shouted, jumping up and down.

“No,” the devil was back to his doom and gloom attitude as he snapped his fingers.

A magical trap door opened below you. You stood in thin air for a second, just like in the old cartoons, before you began to fall into Hell. It wasn't completely red anymore, it was full of brimstone staircases full or tortured souls and the damned. You could see King James the ll having his spine removed. Amy Winehouse had challenged Jessie James to a drinking contest and so far she was winning. 

All their faces soon became blurs as you fell into the blinding light of the fires, screaming at the eternal pain of burning flesh that seemed never ending. In fact, whenever you moved the pain got worse. Man, you thought being a demon would be cool and a good career, but it really fucking sucks. Like that one time you were babysitting and shook that baby but it kept crying, or that old man that just slowly bleed out instead of dying right away. Now that was the longest 3 hours of your life. 

Jeez, you were only trying to help the Lord of Hell with his stupid boy crush. At least there's beaver down here.   
And here you are, burning in hell for your sins for all of eternity. It was boring as hell.. haha, that's funny.


	5. B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How bad can I be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad

Wow, you're most obedient than most of the damned souls who walk through here! Even Dahmer wasn't this charming. Anyways, what exactly did you do? How could you have done that would land you a spot in hell? 

You hesitate for a moment, unsure. Should you tell this guy you're haunted past? You're not ashamed, so you suppose there's no reason to hide. 

//You slowly explain it from the beginning, the very beginning. How you've always struggled with your deranged desire to kill, to inflict pain and death to others. You've had them since you could recall knowing the difference from right and wrong, how you noticed you were a lot different than the others. 

Skipping over the generic and sob backstory, you got right to your ultimate demise.

You had become an adult, the urges were getting more and more stronger and your will was getting weaker and weaker. You're first human kill was when you were 19, and you couldn't stop. Almost one person a week. At first it was people who wouldn't be missed, who would be forgotten before they were even found dead, burnt to a crisp in an empty dumpster. Then you evolved (more like devolved) into now stalking your victims. Mothers strolling their children around, only to be stabbed to death in an alleyway late at night and thrown into the nearby landfill. Businessmen walking home, then showing up all mangled and disgusting outside their very own office building. 

It was around this time that your insane spree turned personal. Axing your parents in there sleep. Strangling your sister, bashing her husband's head in with a baseball bat, and even smothering their 4 month old with a pillow. No one safe, and now your work was getting sloppy and disorienting. 

The police were close to identifying you. Tracking your every move but couldn't name you and boy it drove them up the wall! You were living off the streets now and your victims became your next meal. Now you killed everyday, sometimes twice. You were reluctant to try human meat at first, but as the nights grew colder and the seasons changed you gave into your temptations. Honestly, you could say that you preferred human meat more than animal meat. Since you had so much of it, you started giving some to the other homeless. A dark, sinister, sadistic pleasure came to you when they unknowingly ate a little girl who ran out of view to catch a ball. 

The police had finally caught up to your schemes. You were front page news for weeks, calling for your capture and/or death. People saw you stalk and lead people away. The other homeless started to rat you out when they found out the true origin of the delectable meats. Citizens hid in their homes and students had a strict curfew, police on every block. 

You met your fate in probably one of the most sleazy ways possible: Shot dead walking out of a drugstore after just killing the owner and harvesting his organs and meat for later in black plastic bags to cover up the blood. You were America’s most wanted man since 2011, dying at 25 with a total of 938 murders but only 565 confirmed. You went down as the the most famous serial killer in history, shocking billions of such a high amount of victims by one lone man. //

Wow… just wow. You're fucking psychotic. People feared you, locked their doors and windows. The public was looking for you just as much as the police were. You have 938 people slain by your sinister desire in only 6 years. 1407 GALLONS of blood is on your hands! You’ve killed so many children, even a 4 month old! You sick, twisted bastard.   
I love it.  
You are real polite and well mannered for a blood thirsty cannibal. How did you hide all of those bodies? You said something about dumpster fires? Wait, you just buried them? In what, a cemetery. Really? Oh… 

Well, it's a shame you didn't wear their skin like Ed Gein. You’ll see him down in hell to, he skins people obviously. He had a belt of fucking nipples! You should ask him for some cool gear. I really want a nipple belt though. 

Enough chit chat, as enlightening as it was, now, was through that 2nd door there and greet the almighty devil! No matter you're such a big deal to him, he must be a fan.


	6. B1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh you sadistic fuck

Ok… is this some kind of joke or are you fucking deaf? We just had a lovely discussion about how nice you are and I honestly feel so attacked right now. What happened? 

/  
You explain your true motives, your desires. Even if you were dead, your urges never ceased. In fact, it seemed to grow stronger. You struggled with this curse, yet you didn't fight back as much as you use to.

“I want to kill again,” you finished in monotone, blank face. 

“Uhhh, well… You could help us deal with Manson, he just got here this morning and BOY is he a chatter box,” Narrator suggested with an exhausted huff. 

“No… fresh blood,” you clarify in a darker tone, eyebrows twitching. 

“Fresh blood you say?” A sly voice echoed. 

The room was still a pitch black, empty space. Yet it seemed that the narrator had disappeared and was replaced by another. A darker and more sinister entity. 

“Yes,” you nodded, but you doubt it even mattered. 

“Then oh boy, do I have an offer for you,” a red, shriveled hand with sharp black claws pointed at him through the shadows. The owner of this hand could not be seen, but you could almost feel the piercing eyes. 

“What kind of offer?” You spat out a bit, you try to step closer. However, you couldn't get one step in as an invisible pressure stopped you from going any further. 

“Be still,” he commanded, voice low and heavy with a hint of a growl. Ok, don't piss Satan off, well noted.   
“You have an incredible talent for evading capture and hiding your identity,” he held out his palm, not to offer a hand to you but just as a gesture. 

“So?” You shrug. You have a pretty good idea of what was going to happen, you just needed to hear it come from his mouth. The devil, needing you to do his dirty work. At least it was something you liked to do. Not like some dumb secretary job.

“You know what I ask of you. Just like Adolf and Donald, I need you to assume control and command. I need you to start a war, a war that will bring humanity to its knees,” he announced, waving his fist triumphantly. 

“A war… in command,” you mumbled aloud. So, either stay in boring ass hell, or start WW3? We all know the answer here. 

“I want you to bring this world to it’s end! Cleanse the Earth to help pave the way for a rebirth. A world full of demons and hell cats. The world shall be ours!” He announced, palm open wide facing the non-existent ceiling. 

You didn't need another second to consider. But you actually did.

“What's the catch?” You raised a brow. This was Satan of course. As inspiring and charming as he may be, he is the master of evil and tricks. You always have to watch your back around him, even if you were now both technically friends now.

“You will be reborn back into an infant, yet you will know you're true purpose and how to execute it. Others will outcast you, mistreat you, even fear you. But loneliness is the price you pay for world damnation,” Satan explained in a sort of rushed tone, waving his hand around lazily. 

You hummed in thought, arms crossed. Loneliness was always a problem for you. Even if you were an apathetic killer, you still had people on your side. Your parents believed you were a little angel, your “friends” admired you, but you never cared for them. Even the homeless treated you kindly when you lived among the streets. 

Did they really deserve the pain and suffering you would inflict onto the world. There's millions of others like them, hearts full of love and compassion. Was it worth cleansing the world? Hell yeah. You don't have feelings other than obnoxious, you don't give a fuck about these people. 

“Deal,” you held your hand out. 

“Deal,” he slapped his hand into yours and shook once. 

Darkness flooded the world around you, but then you were suddenly surrounded with white lights and the horrid smell of a hospital. 

“It's a boy!” A man called out, assuming it was a doctor. 

And so it begins.


	7. B2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the shit

Well, this is as far as I go. Satan is waiting 

/  
And with that narrator had gone silent. But that didn't matter because Satan was right in front of you omggg. 

“Ah, you're here right on schedule,” he smiled darkly, standing from his throne. 

His hooves stomped onto the hard stone floor and steam huffed out of his nose as he looked down at you. 

“You know why you are here?” He asked, slowly circling him. 

“I killed people… ate them,” you shrug with an awkward chuckle. 

“I know. What was it? Ah yes, 938 dead,” He smiled with his gnarly needle like teeth sticking out. It was like IT but not a white ass clown. 

“I suppose so,”  
“You suppose so? You are an idol!” He praised.  
“An idol? Really?” You murmured in disbelief. 

_“If I had a killer like you, the world would bow to us._  
Fuck these pussy leaders, let's hit them with a bus.  
Sure it's dark and sinister, but what do you expect?  
I'm the evil lord of death and tortured souls of the damned,” he sang in tone. When did this turn into a musical? Well fuck, now you have to sing and rhyme shit, too. 

“How about you?” The devil asked in normal tone, facing me.  
“What?” You stuttered a bit. The devil… the fucking DEVIL, was singing… isn't this music from some Barbie movie or? 

“What's your worse?” He laughed.  
“Well…,” you trailed off, brain scrambling for a rhyme a beat. 

_“Sure I'm evil and sure I'm smart,_  
But no one knows my name.  
No one feared me, for they didn't know my face!  
Yet they feared, oh yes they feared, for the killer in the night,  
But that doesn't mean, I totally, didn't want some famous rights,” you sang back. Ok this wasn't so bad. Not fun, but it could be worse. 

_“I'm just like you,_ ” he bursted out, pointing a finger at you.  
_“Huh? _” You leaned back a bit__  
_“You're just like me. The dead look up to our evil ways.  
The world will pay, a type that will last for days.  
Yes I am evil like you,”_ he sang loudly, continuing this very strange duet.

__“You really think I'm evil?” You bit the inside of your cheek._ _

__“Of course I do,” he reassured, slapping you on the back._ _

___“Sure they may not know your face, but they'll remember your legacy.  
On how you killed your targets without a single scream,” _ he bagan. _ _

___“They’ll know my name, and if they don't, we’ll be sure to make them pay,”_ you cut off with gusto. _ _

____“Our symbol of death will be burned onto their ways,_ ” you and he sang together, a mix of deep and a soft tone. Weird, yet pleasant. ___

____

____

__“Wait, how will they know me?” You questioned, pacing a bit._ _

_We’ll make them know you're name. You're face,” the devil patted your shoulder with confidence, smirking._

_______“I'm just like you,” _you sang  
 __“I think that's true,”_ he countered  
_ _“You're just like me.”  
“Yes I can see.”  
_ “We take fatality seriously,” _ you both sang _

______“We’ll carry through,”_ he sang __ _ _ _

________“We’ll carry through_ ,” you echoed. _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“We’ll do what we need to do.  
Yes I am a evil like you_.” You sang in duet_ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I'm just like you,_ ” you sang.  
_“I'm just like you_ ,” Satan echoed.  
_“You're just like me.”  
“You're just like me,”__ _ _ _ _

_________“It's something anyone can see,”_ you sang together, joining hands.  
_“A heart that beats,”_ he continued  
_“A heart that beats,”_ you echoed. _ _ _ _ _ _

________“A voice that speaks the truth  
Yes I am evil like you!” _ You finished together, voices loud for all to hear._ _ _ _ _ _ _

It resonated although it Hell, making the dead scratch their heads at such a superior and harmonious duet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LINK TO SONG https://youtu.be/VyY4YTGuVaE Barbie movies are so rediculous


End file.
